


Fighting in the Summer Breeze

by Catharrington



Series: Harringrove Week of Love 2020 [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Blood and Gore, Harringrove Week of Love 2020, M/M, Marking, Sharing a Bed, bad language, but hes still pretty, fighting demodogs, monster hunting, steve gets hurt pretty bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharrington/pseuds/Catharrington
Summary: The job wasn’t done. There was cleaning up they had to do after the battle with the mind flayer. But it isn’t always an easy job picking up the scraps. Especially if the scraps fight back. Steve and Billy can fight as hard as they want but getting outnumbered will win every time.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Week of Love 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654594
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	Fighting in the Summer Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> this is day 1 prompt bed sharing for hwol. These were originally on my tumblr before i created this account. All are stand alone plots and do not have to be read in any order or together even.  
> thank thank thank you so much for reading!!!! :)

“God, stop touching it!” Steve howled with pain, his voice cracking in a way it hadn’t since he was 12, as he was carried into the motel room.

Hopper just rolled his eyes as he followed into the bedroom. “You aren’t going to die, kid!” He growled, closing the door behind them. El watched with wide worried eyes as Steve was lead over to the mattress and laid down, whimpering the whole time. Billy was holding onto his arm and helping him down into the bed, his own body not unscathed.

They had just got away from a pack of demo dogs still loose and running in the woods around Hawkins. El and Hopper were sure they would be destroyed by the portal closing but they just kept showing up like roaches when the lights turn off. There must be something still open around Hawkins that had to be cleaned up. And Billy, even though he had already proven himself as a friend by being a human shield against the mind flayer, volunteered first for the portal closing hunt.

Steve was more drafted by Hopper and the kids. You don’t get much room to not be a hero when you’ve fought these things off with a nail covered baseball bat before.

They had tracked a sighting of a starved looking feral dog to an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. All the evidence pointed to three, maybe two, demo dogs holding up and a small portal letting them come though for hunting, but when they got there it was more like ten. They were almost over run by the numbers. Hopper did his best with his police pistol, and El took care of most, but Billy and Steve caught the brunt of the surprise.

“Don’t talk down to him!” Billy hissed as he laid Steve down sloppily on the bed, “it’s your damn fault he got hurt!”

“Watch it!” Hopper warned. “We did the best with the intel that we had! No one saw that shit coming- even El didn’t see them!”

Billy had one leg crossed over the bed and the other leg dangling down to touch the floor. He was leaned over Steve in a protective hunch that he wasn’t even aware he was doing. “You should have gotten some fucking better intel then, Hop.” Billy pushed his curly hair back from his forehead, it turned red with blood.

Interrupting the tense showdown, Steve moaned loudly as he settled into the bed. His wounded arm laid limp next to him while his left arm griped white knuckled into the remains of his sweater ripped all the way down to his stomach.

El was quietly watching from the sidelines, her eyes going to the people talking for only a moment but mostly staying locked on Steve’s bloodied wound. He had 4 huge gashes dragged over his shoulder and down his pectoral, already bruised black and blue and still bleeding.

With Steve’s bat and Billy’s axe they had stayed to the sides of the formation to catch any straggler or finish off what Hoppers gun didn’t, but that was a perfect target for a group of demo dogs sneaking out of the woods. Steve fought off most of them, skillful with his bat, and nimble in his dodging- but as he crushed one into the ground another jumped on his back and dragged those demonic claws from his chest to his shoulder.

The scream he made is something the group won’t be getting out of their head for a while.

“We did the best we could,” El spoke softly.

Hopper continued to glare daggers into Billy but focused on taking out 2 water bottles from the motels mini fridge. Collecting towels from the bathroom, he placed some under Steve’s shoulder and whispered something heroic to the boy before he flushed out the wound.

Dumping the cold water right into the flayed flesh made Steve howl. He bent his head back into the pillow and let his voice carry until it simply cracked again into a whimpering cry. His face was covered in sweat, blood and something else much darker. His shaggy hair, equally as sweaty, clung to where ever it could catch. The famous volume was mostly lost in its wetness and that broke Billy’s heart.

He brushed a strand from Steve’s ghostly pale face in an attempt to be comforting.

When Hopper dumped the second bottle Steve cried again but only what his used throat could muster. Billy watched in horror as Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell limply onto the pillow.

“Hop,” Billy gasped, he held onto Steve’s cheek and examined the boys pale face.

“Chill out, kid, he’s just unconscious.” Hopper finished with the second bottle then threw them and the stained towels into a trash can. He took more towels and laid them softly over Steve’s shoulder. The motel owner isn’t going to be happy she’s out of four nice cotton towels but it made Billy happy to see the wound finally covered in something.

Hopper took Steve’s left hand and applied it as pressure to the wound. The room became way too quiet without Steve being awake groaning in pain. The rest of the group took a breath of silence between themselves before Hopper finally moved.

“You have to stay here, watch him! We will be back soon!” He scooped up his sheriffs hat and made for the door, El loyal on his heels.

“We need to go to a hospital now,” Billy sputtered out. “These cuts need stitches- I can tell!”

“Absolutely no hospitals. They can’t be trusted. And before anything else, we have to clean up the shit show of dead dogs all over that cabin so El can close that portal for good.” Hopper rested his hat on his head and sighed. “We gotta stop these bastards or this fight will be for nothing. Harrington is tough. He will last-,”

“That’s really not something you get to decide.” Billy stood up from the bed and marched to the door. He had gotten his share of black blood on his clothing and a few scratches here and there. Most notability across his forearm one demo dog’s back leg caught him and left a nasty gash, but Billy hadn’t started to feel it yet. “You can’t just expect him to go all these damn rounds for no one to be in his corner. You can’t just-“

Billy’s rant was cut off before it started by a sharp intake of breath. Steve’s soft hair shook as he came awake. “Billy,” he muttered out, fluttering his eyes as he came to terms with the burning irons on his shoulder once again. “…Billy?”

“Yeah, easy Stevie, right here,” Billy rushed back to his side, leaned over the bed a little less close than before, but he wanted to be so much closer.

Hopper took this as his time to leave. “Don’t let him out of your sight. We‘ll be only a minute!” And the door was slammed behind the two.

Billy didn’t have a moment to grumble any discourse before his attention was taken again by the injured boy.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve involuntarily flexed his good hand and shoulders as he tried to sit up only making him hurt more, “Mother fucking Mary!”

“Stop,” Billy pressed his open palm down into Steve’s chest. “Do not get up, it’s gonna hurt a Hell lot more if you keep moving.” From the touch he could feel the boy’s breaths quicken under his ribs, shallow and hard. “Just take it easy, Steve.”

Steve said nothing, but did as he was told.

Working intently on steadying out his breaths, he took a look around the room to try and steady his mind. The motel was familiar, the group used it to ready up before heading into the woods to find the abandoned house, but the spaces between that was a blur. All purple and blue like a bruised spot that wouldn’t stop hurting as Steve tried to remember it.

Billy had taken his hand back from Steve’s chest, carefully keeping his distance. He moved to the very edge of the bed hunched over with his messy blond hair covering as much of his face as he could. The streaks of blood in his hair made it seem a darker shade than it was.

Out of the corner of his eyes Steve watched Billy, half to have something to focus on, and half because he hasn’t seen this boy so far gone since he was drugged unconscious on Byers’ floor. But that time his eyes were not blown wide open. Looking at him now, Billy had a face like he was sitting in the middle of a mine field and couldn’t get out.

“Is that your blood… or mine?” Steve rasped out so weak it was easy to miss. But Billy was listening for it.

“You know, I don’t know.” He balled his hands into the sheets. “I think it’s yours. I’m not really bad off. Don’t think.” Billy knew he was distracted as he replied but couldn’t help it under Steve’s half lidded stare. The gash on Billy’s arm wasn’t bleeding or painful and the darkened blood looked like demo dog guts to him.

Steve hummed and it was pretty. “My blood,” he started, “I’m sorry I-,”

“Don’t you dare!” Billy turned his eyes sharply and dug a glare into Steve. “Nothing tonight was your damn fault.”

Steve kept watching him, kept him trained with those big brown eyes. “I was gonna say, jerk, that I’m sorry you had to actually fight while I was down…,” Steve trailed off to let out a groan, “instead of just getting creamed in the end like last time.” He laughed but it was painful sounding.

“Last time?” Billy was astounded that with his shoulder ripped out and losing so much blood Steve still had the gull to be a bratty little shit. He even had the nerve to let out a small smile. “Last time I single-handedly fought back a three story tall monster made of rat AND people bones? You mean that last time?” Billy enjoyed watching that little smile on Steve getting bigger.

“Yeah, single handed, but I do remember you getting creamed?” Steve’s words were so light and easy. They were a warm breeze in the summer time, kicking up flowers, and Billy could easily be in that breeze forever without wanting to leave.

Billy laughed. “Saving El, saving you too, by getting impaled… that’s not getting creamed, pretty boy.” Running his hand over his chest Billy could feel the scar from the mind flayer right there. Always a reminder of how he fought. And a badge that said he would do it again in a heart beat. 

“Hey maybe you’ll get a wicked scar then I can’t call you pretty boy anymore.” Billy said it as a joke but Steve’s smile fell into something else, even something sadder maybe.

Steve clutched the towels over his shoulder with his hand Hopper was kind enough to place over it. His other arm, the one that was holding on with just the bones of his shoulder and not so much the flesh, he only flexed those fingers just to make sure they still worked. But he kept his arm laying down like Billy ordered him to.

Wetting his lips and fixing the other boy with another locking stare, he whispered. “Hum. I don’t know if I would want that. Not really the scar type.”

“Not the type? But you know scars get all the chicks? You’ll be a magnet. I’ll have to use that bat to fend them off.” Billy laughed at his own joke. He lifted his hands and made a goofy swinging motion. Steve gave him a scoffing laugh and Billy felt comfortable enough to laugh with him. Dropping his hands Billy inched a little more towards Steve, trying to get more of that warm breeze on his face.

Steve shook his head in a no motion very lightly so he didn’t hurt himself. It made his wet hair fan out over the pillow. “First of all, don’t use my bat.” Billy raised his eye brows. “Second, don’t really care… about being a chick magnet.”

Billy wanted to ask so many questions. He might not be the King any more but Steve still has game, he still should want to add notches to his bed post. And now that he was out of school his game should be even better. But Billy didn’t ask.

In almost a defensive mode, Billy kept his head down and chewed his inner cheek like his thoughts were getting chewed over inside of his head. But he didn’t back away from how he was leaning towards the injured boy.

Thankfully, Steve’s breathing was as normal as one could get. He only moaned a few times between breaths. Billy had the painful realization that with the scratches across his upper chest it likely hurt to have the rising and falling motion. It made Billy angry that Hopper was taking so long to come back.

“Are you tired?” Steve’s summer breeze knocked Billy out of his thoughts. “You can…,” Steve swallowed hard, shifted a little as he spoke, “You can lay down. If you are tired.”

Billy watched Steve with a hesitant eye. Yeah- his body was screaming to lay down. Yeah- he was very, very tired from fighting off a hoard of demo dogs and then carrying Steve’s limp body to this motel. Shivers ghosted up his spine as he considered it, laying down in the same bed as Steve Harrington, but he was too tired to really pay attention to the reminder of self loathing.

“You don’t care?” He asked for permission.

“It’s a big enough bed,” Steve smiled.

Billy couldn’t help but groan as he let himself lean back into the mattress. His muscles were more tired than he thought. Adrenaline and maybe shock was to thank for that. Billy laid his head down on the pillow right next to Steve’s pillow. However, he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

There was a softness in the air, the rhythm of steady breathing slowly syncing up together, so close but looking away. Warmth from that closeness felt like laying in the summer sun.

Steve wanted to turn his head with every fiber of his being but he was scared it might hurt. He did it anyway, turning with a light moan to look at Billy’s direction. The others long blonde hair dark with blood crunched up against the pillow and his chiseled jaw muscles taught under tanned skin was worth all the pain to look at it. Even with his eyes drilling holes into the ceiling, he was an Adonis.

Billy kept his breathing quiet and tried not to make a big deal about laying in a shitty motel bed touching his shoulder against Steve’s shoulder. Sure it was a large bed but they were growing men, and Billy wasn’t going to punish himself with not at least trying to lay enough to the side where he could touch the other. Steve’s skin was flushed under Billy’s touch. In different circumstances Billy would have been flattered. Maybe even if it was different he would have let those questions about Steve and the notches in his bed post surface. But he couldn’t do that to him now.

Instead they just laid there and breathed.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice kept waking Billy from his thoughts. It was like the boy couldn’t keep quiet. Truthfully, he wanted something to distract him from the pain. 

Billy turned his head over on his pillow and their eyes met. Big and brown, red with tears, locked into Billy’s sharp and blue, almost glowing with a protectiveness he didn’t knew he had in himself. Those eyes meeting Steve’s felt like the best pain killer.

“Thank you.” Steve smiled.

“What the fuck for?” Billy played dumb.

“Everything,” then those big brown eyes rolled, it was positively endearing. “Saving my life twice. Being here. Being… you.”

Billy felt his breath catch. He had never once been under the lock of an emotion like this. Under the watch of those brown eyes Billy felt real, that his life mattered and his existence wasn’t a burden to anyone. Sure he sacrificed himself and was heralded as a hero, but this was on another level. And to top it off he was swimming in the high of those eyes, that melodious voice, and uniquely sweet summer winds.

“Yeah well…,” Billy’s voice caught for a second so he cleared his throat. He had to pull away from these feelings before his voice left completely. He looked back up to the ceiling and continued, “I’m just me.”

Steve laughed the same condescending laugh he pulled in the drive way of the Byers’ house. The laugh that was so superior and patronizing it would have made Billy crazy back when all he cared about was fighting the mighty King Steve. Back when he needed to pull Steve down to his level, to make him feel Billy’s pain with fists and blood. But now Billy could tell he hasn’t done the pulling, it was Steve who pulled him down. Within all this monster fighting and children helping, Steve showed him there were no levels.

Only here.

Only now.

Only saving those that he cares about. And Billy really did care about Steve. From the first moment he saw him in school he knew he cared so much for this brown haired, spoiled, smug, heroic, selfless hurricane named Steve Harrington.

To make it worse, that laugh was so beautiful.

“You are really a great guy, Billy. I want you to know that.” And just as the last word left Steve’s lips the door opened to a hurried Hopper and El.

The sheriff hesitated for a second as he noticed their closeness but Hopper was in a time crunch. He collected the few things they left around then a large duffel bag to put them in while he ordered everyone for the door. “No hospitals,” he reminded, finger pointed at Billy, “but I know someone from the department who can fix him up.”

Billy was already up moving to help Steve from the bed. Steve tried to stand by himself but he didn’t have the strength. Blood was soaking into the towel making it a strawberry pink, reminding them all that Steve has lost more than was safe by this point. More groans and slight whimpers filled the air as he stood up from the bed to attempt to walk.

El was tired herself, hanging back by the door to keep her jacket sleeve on her bloodied nose. Hopper joined her with full hands by the doorway and expectant eyes telling them to hurry.

Billy looked between them for a second before he lowered his head towards Steve’s ear to whisper, “Thanks for letting me rest up. I feel loads better.” Then in a quick movement Billy scooped the back of Steve’s knees with one arm and cradled the boy around his ribs with the other. On sure and strong legs Billy lifted him off the ground.

Steve’s one good arm kept holding the towels tightly to his shoulder while the other he could only let hang limply. Blood dripped down his pale skin and rolled off his finger tips. 

Another time, different circumstances, he would have loved to brace himself on Billy’s strong arms. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of anything. For once, his bratty comments caught in his throat. Instead Steve let his head drop and his forehead rest so very lightly against Billy’s neck.

“Don’t pass out on me, pretty boy.” Billy teased as he carried him out the door and started into the parking lot.

“Shut up, Hargrove.” Steve hissed but it held no venom.

Billy tucked Steve into the back seat of Hopper’s sheriff Jeep and stayed as close as he could while they rode back into town.


End file.
